


Shadows And Sunshine

by MotelsandDiners



Category: Mystic Messenger (Video Game)
Genre: Cat snuggles, F/M, He gets hot and bothered easier than chocolate melts in the sun, Jumin is a sweetie, Jumin is easily flustered, Jumin notices things about you, Jumin's biggest hobby is watching you, Rain, Romance, Things he likes, You're oblivious to his struggle, husband/wife relationship, i wouldn't say it's body worship, more like controlled adoration
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-06
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-04-19 02:29:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,858
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14227143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MotelsandDiners/pseuds/MotelsandDiners
Summary: Just everyday life with your husband, and his thoughts of you everyday. And he does think of you every day. Every. Single. One.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've been sucked into another fandom. I am weak. So weak. But misery loves company~ So go check this game out! Do it now!

Rain pours in sheets and beats against the windows incessantly, as if begging to be let in. The sky is dark, dotted with clouds, and the moon is an eerie pendant above, smoky and smeared looking from the humidity of the storm that just passed.

Jumin admires you from his spot on the couch, tucked into the corner of the armrest and the cushion, the book in his hands lays limp on his lap as all his attention is riveted on you standing by the window, tracing the trail of a water drop on the pane.

Elizabeth the 3rd, curled up by Jumin’s hip, cracks an aqua blue eye open to look at you, and then raises her head to fully regard you. Much like her master, she’s fallen under your spell as well.

Your shared night-in has been quiet, and soft, and Jumin has reveled in the companionable peace, grateful that you share- or to some extent, understand -his want for quiet. His life is so busy, so rushed, and loud, he rarely gets a moment to himself to think.

Your reflection is barely visible in the pristine glass, and from across the room Jumin can just make out the vague melancholy that rests upon your features. He frowns while watching you press your fingertip to a new raindrop and follow it down, your eyes dim with some emotion he can’t deduce from so far away.

Jumin cocks his head, his fingers twitching slightly across the pages of his book, and Elizabeth, sharing her master’s curiosity, and his protectiveness of you, hops down and patters over to you, tail high and swaying.

She weaves between your legs, fluffy tail curling around a calve, and you wordlessly stoop down to pick her up and cradle her to your chest. The purring is immediate, and the closing of her eyes in bliss happens the moment you begin absently scratching behind her ears.

Jumin’s lips curl the smallest bit at the corners in witnessing the simple exchange between the two of you. But more pressing is the downcast nature of your eyes, the guarded movements of your hands, the loose set to your shoulders. All these things drive him from his comfortable position on the couch to your back in a matter of moments.

Elizabeth’s paws are perched on your shoulder, and Jumin reaches around your bicep to rub her underneath her chin with a couple of fingers, her purr sending vibrations into the tips of his fingers.

He regards you slyly, peering down from his towering height, his head tilted, and he finds you working a wan smile across your lips. His free hand finds your hip, and rests there softly, as if you’re fragile glass.

That struggling smile struggles a little less, and Jumin notices in the reflection of the window, and so he strokes the firmness of your hip-bone with his thumb reverently, warmly, and abandons petting Elizabeth to sweep all your hair over your shoulders.

An errant, short hum breaks the quiet, drawn out of you by his small attentive gestures. Idly, he twirls a silky lock of your hair between his fingers, brushing the outline of your shoulder blade, the motion seemingly accidental. But you know, with Jumin, it’s nothing if not purposeful.

“Ju…”

Much like the cat in your arms, he can’t help but melt, to release a pleased purr of his own at hearing his name tumble from your lips in a breathy, sweet whisper.

He still doesn’t have a clue about what had you troubled, and though he’s appeared to bring you out of your sodden silence, he is no less curious, no less worried.

“You can tell me anything,” he swears in a low murmur, watching your lashes beat down on your cheekbones with every blink. He inches closer, feet on the outside of your own, and that hand on your hip stretches forward to lay across the smooth expanse of your stomach. Though the fabric of the shirt you’re wearing hides your skin, Jumin can imagine to finite detail what lays underneath. God knows he’s memorized everything about you by now.

“You can share anything with me,” he further promises, bending down to rest his mouth on the top of your head. “I will always be here, behind you, to hold you up. And beside you, to revel in every moment of joy, and to comfort you in the wake of every storm. And,” a smile, a genuine, honey-sweet grin pulls his lips wide as he presses a kiss to your temple.

“I will be ahead, to guide you, to protect you, to be your something to look forward to.”

“J-Jumin…”

The break in your voice is the cutest thing he’s heard in a week, and it’s so vulnerable, so shy, it makes him chuckle smugly.

He hums and lays his jaw on top your head as silence settles.

Elizabeth, feeling crowded and miffed that you’re no longer petting her, wriggles out of your arms and pads away haughtily, as if offended that every iota of your attention isn’t fixated on her.

Both his arms snake around you firmly, securely, and you lean back into him whole-heartedly, relishing the warmth he radiates.

The rain is a hesitant patter against the cool window, the tear like rivulets running down the pane are far and few between, and your eyes are closed, and your head is tilted back to lay on his chest.

And Jumin is silent, counting his many blessings, grateful that you make up a great deal of them. It’s true that he is entitled, and he does believe that he’s the most important person in a room.

But he doesn’t believe he deserves you. He believes that when you step foot in a room, everything else is pointless. The room doesn’t matter anymore, the people in that room, _he_ even becomes something inconsequential. A mere speck of dust floating in the radiant shine of your beauty, and elegance, and purity.

Jumin, once high and mighty, and riding a high horse everywhere he went…

Is now on ground level with everyone else.

You didn’t pull him off his pedestal or ask him to come down. You didn’t negotiate, or even ask to be pulled up.

No.

He just…got off it, on his own.

Well, he practically jumped off if we’re being honest here.

The thought tugs his lips into a wistful smile, something light and refreshing, and you can barely peek at his expression in the window.

Your heart swells. “Jumin...?”

His smile grows, and his arms tighten. “Mm…I love you too, dear.”

You sigh teasingly, “You know they say about assuming.”

Jumin chortles heartily, “I do. But tell me I’m wrong?”

You grin warmly. “You aren’t.”

“I know.”


	2. The Simple Things, The Small Things

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jumin appreciates everything about you, the obvious things like your compassion and patience towards him which is monumental because he's a difficult man to care for. Jumin appreciates the tinier things, things other people wouldn't even think about. Then again, the things he really appreciates about you are things only he's allowed to appreciate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Do I need an explanation for this? I feel like I don't. Some people have really nice hands, that's all. Jumin thinks you all have nice hands.

Jumin, eyes half-open, leans against a wall with his arms crossed and observes you at the stove. He doesn’t know what you’re making, and he doesn’t honestly care: anything you make, anything your hands touch turn into perfection. Whereas he follows recipes and directions down to the last detail you add a little flare, you flippantly cook. And it never affects the quality, it’s always superb.

But anyway, that’s not precisely why he’s here, even if watching you sway and cock your hips to whatever tune you’re humming is cathartic and amusing.

No, see, he was minding his own business, lounging on the couch, his long legs just barely fitting the length of it when behind his closed lids an image appeared. An image of you.

Something simple.

A small vignette of your hands. Your slim hands with dainty fingers, and slender wrists, and tiny mountain ranges of veins on the backs of your hands. The flash quick jolt and poke of your metacarpal bones leading to your knuckles when you curl your hand around something. In this case, the handle of a plain porcelain mug.

And then he was treated to another snapshot: your neck from an angle above and behind your shoulder. Your hair was pulled up, revealing the smoothness, the length and vulnerability of your slight neck. Strands of hair escaped their bun and lay across the back of your neck in thin waves, or lay haphazardly behind the shell of your ear.

It’s never escaped his notice how small you are in comparison to him, to most people. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t find it endearing, find it attractive. Because he does. Very much so.

He closes his eyes, and his brain doesn’t disappoint.

A small slip of skin, your hip bone, defined with a thin layer of muscle, dipping beneath your jeans. Your tank-top short enough to allow him a peek, the hem rolled up unintentionally from various movements, and a shade that contrasts with your skin tone.

His mouth goes dry.

He opens his eyes, and props his head against the wall, coolness soothing the flush that’s taken over his skin. His hair falls over his eyes, creating a curtain that hides his expression, but doesn’t completely obscure his view of you.

“Y/N,” His voice is quiet, a low murmur and it’s accented with roughness, a strained raspy quality brought on by his thoughts. You peer over your shoulder at him- lips parted slightly, light catching on their supple shape, long lashes flutter as you blink at him -and he swallows thickly.

“Could you-” Jumin reaches up to slide a hand underneath the collar of his shirt, and drags it back to rub at the nape of his neck, “Could you make me some coffee?”

You smile brightly. “Sure!”

Jumin’s jaw tingles painfully, and he drops his mouth open to inhale a ragged breath, quiet enough to not be heard over the stove. He forces a small smile in your direction, his hair still hiding his eyes.

_Dear God. She’s going to be the death of me._

“Thank you.” He says, and cups his own throat, feeling his pulse beating against his palm. He clears his throat.

You think nothing of his behavior, or perhaps you just think he’s lost in thought, as he tends to be most times, and he’s grateful that you aren’t reading anything into his strange demeanor.

Steeling himself, he rakes all his hair back, and digs his teeth into his bottom lip.

As you go about making him a pot of coffee, he’s determined to convince you to have some as well.

If only so he can watch your hands, your fingers snake elegantly around the handle, and your other hand cradle the bottom of the mug, the fingers of that hand reaching up, laying in various angles and different levels of stress-

He fists his hair and narrows his eyes.

Hearing a grunt behind you, you half-turn and witness Jumin taking off down the hallway, his shoulders taut and his hands curled into loose fists at his side. “Jumin?” You call after him curiously.

“It’s nothing, Y/N, I’m fine.” His pace picks up, his gait stiffening, but his voice is controlled and smooth.

Your bedroom door shuts a few moments later and you furrow your brow in confusion. “What’s his problem?”

**Author's Note:**

> Hey, guys. I uh...I'm kind of taking a hiatus for a number of reasons, so my updates will be few and far between. Just got some...stuff...going on right now. I hope you're all well, and life is treating you right. I will see you lovelies around. <3


End file.
